She Loves Me, She Loves Me Not?
by Remarkable1
Summary: Not everything is as it seems, even when it seems quite clear...


Lucius whistled to himself as he strode through the halls of his Manor. Life was good; he had a gorgeous young wife pregnant with his second child, a solid handle on the family fortune and a new outlook on life. His family was the most precious thing in his life, and there was nothing that could upset his good mood as he made to enter the Malfoy library in search of Hermione for their weekly Lamaze class.

The newly reformed family man stopped cold upon hearing voices just beyond the door. Did he just hear what he must have imagined? With ice clutching at his heart he put his ear to the door.

"Oh god, Draco, yes that feels so good!"

_What the bloody hell was going on?_

Lucius felt sick, as if a huge weight had dropped his gut into his dragon hide boots. Like a train wreck he wanted to wrench himself away from the door and run, but at the same time he couldn't pull himself away. It never occurred to him to simply walk in and find out what was happening. He couldn't face it if he saw the truth in front of his eyes.

"You know, for a pregnant Mudblood you sure are bloody tight!"

Lucius groaned inwardly. They were fucking! In _HIS_ library! In the middle of the day!

_Please tell me this is not happening, please let me wake up_, he chanted to himself, mystified as the moaning continued.

"Shut your filthy hole, Ferret. You try carrying a baby around for nine months and see what it does to your figure!"

"You know you love it. I thought you said my Father had loosened you up?"

Lucius closed his eyes tight, tears stinging the back of his eyelids.

(Another moan) "Oh, Draco, that feels so good. Yes, right there, you hit my sweet spot."

"Isn't every spot sweet?" his son chuckled.

The sound of a book hitting the far wall was followed by Draco muttering, "That really wasn't necessary. How do you know that wasn't a priceless antique?"

"I'll show you a priceless antique," Lucius' wife growled through a moan.

"You sure are tense," Draco jibed.

"No thanks to your Dad!" she replied.

Lucius allowed his eyebrows to rise in surprise.

"What's Father's problem now?" his son asked.

"I've been hinting for this all week and not once has he bothered asking me if I want one!"

"Well, you know guys, Swot, if you want something you have to ask for it, not beat around the bush like you're prone to do. Father needs a bludger to the head to notice things sometimes."

"He shouldn't need a bloody bludger to give a little to his pregnant wife," he heard her grumble.

Lucius brought trembling knuckles up to his mouth, biting back a sob. His wife was in his library, giving herself to his son because he'd neglected to satisfy her. It stung in the worst way. Just when he'd learned to trust after Narcissa's betrayal, let the bushy-haired know it all boss her way into his heart, life, and Manor, finally marry her to start a family and this was the thanks he got?

"OH, yes, right there! A little harder, please."

"I think I like you when you're lying down."

"Well it's not like I'm in any shape to stand up while we're doing this."

"I don't know, I think the angle makes a difference in easing your tension."

"Have you been taking lessons, or what?"

"I learned from the best."

Hermione laughed a full, throaty sound that ended in a yelp.

"Hey! You didn't have to push so hard! What if you hurt the baby?"

"I would never hurt my little brother or sister. I'm just happy to be so close to him or her."

"Well you can't get much closer than this without being the father," Hermione moaned.

"Isn't that the truth?"

Draco grunted, the two falling silent for a while she moaned and he exhaled sharply time and again.

Lucius was as a stone, paralyzed until the conclusion of this travesty.

Suddenly the voices sounded again.

"I'm thinking I'm almost done. I can't take much more of this."

"That doesn't say much for Malfoy stamina, Draco."

"My father has a lot more practice at this than I do!"

Lucius let his eyes widen in surprise.

"Bullshit. I know how often you and Astoria do it; she tells me all about it."

"Bloody women, isn't anything sacred between girlfriends?"

"Not much," Hermione came back, moaning loudly.

"Man, you're killing me here. I'm really sore; we've been at this a long time."

"But it feels so good! Can't you just do it for a little while longer?"

Lucius heard Draco sigh.

"Look, I'll give it the old Hogwarts try but I'm not promising anything. Maybe if I rest for a while we can continue this later on. Let's get Father. I'll bet he'd take over for me!"

"Draco no! Are you mad? He'll be upset as it is if he finds out you've been doing this for me."

"Why should he? Father knows I adore you."

"Yes, but he's funny about other men touching his property."

His son snorted.

"I hope you're not going to let him treat you like he did my mother."

"Nothing of the sort. I kind of like the antiquated notion that I'm his possession. Let him think what he wants."

The pair laughed and Lucius' blood came to a full boil. He'd had enough.

With a feral snarl on his lips, knuckles white around his wand and a scathing retort on the tip of his tongue, he blasted open the door to his library and stormed inside, every bit of blood draining from his beet-red face to his feet at the sight before him.

Hermione lay draped over the special pregnancy massage chair he'd bought specifically for her delicate "condition" as he called it. She must have had it moved from their chambers to the library, for Draco was slick with sweat, his hands and forearms greasy to the elbows with massage oil. A white poet's shirt clung to his son's chest and the long Malfoy hair braided loosely, giving Draco a rakish air. The quiet Astoria sat a few feet away with her feet up, quietly nursing Scorpius.

"Hello, Father!" Draco greeted cheerfully. "Now that you're here I'll let you take over. I've got her all warmed up." Draco winked saucily at his Dad and crawled off the knee pad at his Hermione's side.

Hermione's head came up slowly, a drawn, sated look saturating her gorgeous features.

"Hello, love. Do you mind?"

Lucius just stood dumbly, a mental bludger striking himself over and over for his over-active imagination. Draco had been simply giving her a _massage?_ The entire time he'd stood outside the door, thinking his own son and wife were…. that they had….. Lucius let his head hang, slowly sheathing his wand, feet dragging across the thick Persian rug toward his wife.

"Are you okay, love?" Hermione asked worriedly. "You had your wand out, and I wondered why you nearly blasted the door in! Is something wrong?"

Lucius leaned down to embrace his face-down, pregnant and precious wife.

"No, my dear, there is nothing wrong. In fact, nothing could be more right."


End file.
